Chapter 7: Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil
Hermione brandished her wand, prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect herself. She hadn't been through Hell and back to lose her life to Malfoy now.
But why didn't Malfoy have his wand out? Surely he wasn't vain enough to think he could defeat her wandless. Well, she wasn't about to take a chance.
"Granger?"
She was startled as Malfoy said her name, the confusion evident in his voice. She squinted her eyes, trying to see him better in the dim light.
"Draco?" she gasped. It was indeed Draco Malfoy, looking eerily similar to his father in the pale light. She still gripped her wand tightly. It didn't matter if it was Draco or Lucius. Any Malfoy was dangerous.
"By the Gods," she heard a voice say. Not taking her eyes from Draco she asked, "Who's there? Show yourself."
And nearly fainted as Harry Potter stepped in front of her.
Harry Potter. Alive. She wasn't even conscious of her actions as she threw herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as she started to weep uncontrollably. His hand stroked her hair as he muttered nonsense words to her. Hermione wanted to stop crying, wanted to talk to him, laugh with him, tell him how much she had missed him, but she simply couldn't control herself.
She continued to pour out her grief as he maneuvered them to one of the garden benches, seating himself and pulling her into his lap. He cradled her, crooning in a deep, calming voice. It was Heaven, and for a moment, Hermione could forget that her world was gone and that she was alone.
But all too soon, reality reasserted itself. It took the form of Draco Malfoy.
"Harry, don't you think we should get her inside? It's freezing out here and she's not dressed for the weather." Even through her sobs she heard the worry in his voice. She didn't know if she was more disturbed by the fact that he seemed to care about her welfare or the fact that he had called Harry by his first name.
Harry pulled her to him more tightly. "Dumbledore said that she'd had a rough day. I think she needs this." He muttered this quietly, trying not to disturb her.
"Harry, anyone would need this after a day with the Weasleys." Ah, there was the Draco she knew and loathed. Hermione's sobs were quieting now, replaced with a deep lassitude that spread throughout her body. She could feel the cold on her face but the rest of her was warmed by Harry's body heat and comforting presence. She distantly felt Harry stand, still holding her in his arms. She wanted to hear what he was saying but she was so tired. Well, she'd just…
Snape watched in abject horror as the woman pulled her wand on Draco. He began to move from the alcove in which he was ensconced. He wasn't about to let this woman harm the last family he had. Drawing his wand, he prepared to defend his Godson. Then he stopped. A look of confusion had manifested itself on the woman's face. It was quickly followed by one of shock as Harry Potter stepped in front of her.
Of course, Snape thought bitterly. Potter to the rescue.
He was momentarily startled from his disgusted thoughts of the Boy Who Lived when the woman flung herself into Potter's arms. He could see that she was in tears, sobs wracking her thin frame. Potter sat down, gathering her into his arms, and, inexplicably, Snape felt a pang of jealousy.
Shaking his head to clear his mind of that particular unwelcome thought, he noted that Harry had stood, the woman still in his arms. He and Draco were moving towards Snape. Rather than risk being discovered hiding in a corner, Snape stepped forward to intercept them.
"I see you've found our long-lost Miss Granger, Potter. I do believe she's set a new record in wrapping you around her little finger. Two seconds flat, I believe?"
"Shut it, Snape. This is none of your concern." Harry's voice was filled with venom, for all that the words had been whispered.
"The welfare of this school and the Headmaster are my concern, you little cretin. This woman is an impostor and a threat and I don't intend-"
"Godfather, please. Now is not the time for this." Draco had a restraining hand on Harry's shoulder, silencing the scathing comment Potter no doubt wished to deliver. "Harry, Dumbledore said she had the quarters behind the Dragon montage near Gryffindor tower. Perhaps you should take her up and put her to bed. Do you remember the password he gave you?"
Harry nodded sharply, still glaring at Snape. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but after a quick glance to the sleeping woman in his arms, simply turned and walked away.
Snape watched them leave, glad to be rid of their presences.
"Godfather?"
Snape turned, noting the incensed look on Draco's face. "Yes?" he drawled.
Draco's expression was stony. "Don't you think you could be a little more sensitive?"
Severus lifted and eyebrow, clearly amused.
Draco sighed. "Just forget I said that. Stupid question. I just think you could have handled that a little better. I've asked you time and time again to cut Harry a break. Get over it, Godfather. I'm sick of you two constantly sniping at one another."
"I'm not going to stoop to kissing that little-"
"Don't even finish that sentence. Look, I'm tired. Harry and I have had a long trip here, and I'd rather not get into this with you tonight." He paused and gave Snape a searching look. "What's your problem with Granger anyway?"
Snape glared. "Why am I the only one who sees that she is clearly a threat?"
"Oh, big threat all right. It was all I could do to keep her from drowning Harry in her tears. Are you off your rocker, old man? I think maybe all your years as a spy have you seeing Dementors where there are none."
"I cannot comprehend how it is that no one questions the fact that a woman who has been dead for seven years is now alive and well. I cannot comprehend how it is that you, of all people, seem more than willing to accept that she is, in fact, Hermione Granger. I expect such foolishness from Gryffindors but you-"
"This has nothing to do with Gryffindor or Slytherin tendencies." He held up a hand to silence Snape. "I'm not blindly accepting that she is who she claims to be, but I also have no reason to suspect that she's a threat to Harry, this school, or anyone else. She's been here, what, almost two weeks? I'd say she's had more than enough opportunities to maim and kill, and yet, amazingly, has done nothing. Admit it, Godfather. You're only suspicious because you can't figure out how a potion could have brought her here from another reality." Draco had a look of smug superiority on his face. He had long ago shed any fear he'd had of Snape; in turn, he was one of the few people who would dare ridicule the sour man.
Snape glowered, wishing he could hex Draco. Instead he asked, "How is it that you know so much about this woman and her claims?"
Draco smirked. "Because Dumbledore keeps Harry and me updated on such important events as these. He contacted us almost immediately after learning who she was. Harry, of course, wanted to come straight away, but Dumbledore insisted he wait until New Year's for some reason. I think I can safely guess that it had something to do with that scene we just witnessed." Draco sighed, suddenly looking less the aristocrat and more the world-weary Auror that he was.
"Go to bed." Snape said gruffly. Even though he wasn't very happy with his Godson, he couldn't help but care for his well-being. Draco had been like a son to him these last few years. Even despite his on-again, off-again relationship with Harry Potter.
Draco nodded wearily. With a quick "Good night," he disappeared into the castle.
Snape stood in the garden alone for several moments, a shadowy figure in the pale moonlight. When he did turn to leave, it was not without a final glance at the rose petals that littered the ground where the woman had stood.
Hermione snuggled deeper into the warm embrace of her husband. She didn't want to contemplate waking; she really didn't want to contemplate dealing with her students today. She breathed deeply, comforted by his familiar scent of-
Laundry detergent?
Hermione opened her eyes to see the pillow she had clutched in a death grip. Right. Not Severus. She threw the pillow from the bed and sat up abruptly. Running a shaky hand through her hair, Hermione tried to figure out how she'd managed to make it to her bed. She remembered leaving the party…
Harry!
Oh, wait. And Draco. She idly wondered just exactly what that was all about. Since when did Potters and Malfoys travel in packs? There were many things in this world that she had had difficulty accepting, but she had dealt with them and moved on. Imagining Draco Malfoy as a good guy was certainly going to be a challenge, but imagining Draco Malfoy as friends with Harry, of all people, was going to be neigh unto impossible.
Well, she'd just have to deal with that shock a little later. For now, she needed to figure out a way to talk to Harry without blubbering all over him. Hermione felt rather embarrassed over her greeting of her old friend; no doubt he thought she was completely insane by now. It had simply been so good to see him, but at the same time, a bigger shock than her already overtaxed system could take. She wasn't sure how many more emotional upsets she could take and retain her sanity.
Hermione scrubbed her face with her hands as she rolled off the bed. Her face felt tight from her earlier crying jag, and she was sure she looked a fright. She idly wondered how long she had been asleep. Glancing at the clock on her night table, she noted it was only just after midnight. What a way to ring in the New Year, she thought bitterly.
Stepping into her lavatory, Hermione took a moment to study her reflection in the mirror. The face that confronted her was splotchy, the eyes red-rimmed and puffy. More disturbing was the look of hollow desolation that reflected from her eyes. She'd been careful not to glance at her reflection over the past few days; she knew what she would see would only serve as a painful reminder of her past. Now she understood the looks of pity Albus gave her on a day-to-day basis. She pitied herself as she looked at her image; she was a mess.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Hermione washed her face and freshened up. Her head still felt fuzzy, but she was already feeling loads better. As she stepped into her bedroom, she heard faint voices coming from her den. Curious, Hermione put her ear to the door. She instantly recognized Harry and Ron's voices. She wasn't sure she wanted to deal with either of them right now, but, even as tired as she was, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without talking to them.
Resolutely, Hermione pushed open the bedroom door and was immediately met with twin looks of concern. Ron stepped forward hesitantly, but Hermione waved him off. Giving the men a tired smile, she moved toward her loveseat and settled into the cushions heavily.
Ron sat in the chair opposite her as Harry tentatively took the seat next to her. They both looked a little unsure of what to say, so Hermione took the initiative.
"Sorry about earlier. Both of you. I was a little…upset." she finished lamely. Harry nodded, looking at her intently.
"Do you feel better now?" he asked.
"Well… yes, actually." Hermione said, a little surprised at her own answer. She actually felt better than she had in a long time, as though she had needed the release. More than likely, it wasn't her outpouring of grief that was making her feel better; it was Harry's presence. She smiled. "Thank you for… you know."
Harry smiled back. "No problem. You don't know what it means to me to have had the opportunity." he said thickly.
"You'd be surprised."
He looked at her, his eyes searching hers intensely. "Perhaps you do, at that."
"Umm…" Ron intoned after a moment, breaking the silence that had settled between Hermione and Harry. "You're sure your okay, Mione?"
She turned to look at him. "Yes, Ron. I'm sure." she said patiently. He looked a little sheepish as he replied, "I sorry for how I acted earlier, too. I didn't mean to upset you."
Hermione sighed. "You couldn't have known, Ron. It's okay. It's just been a long, difficult day, and you caught me a little off guard."
Ron looked relieved and settled back into his chair.
"So," Harry said, catching her attention. "How are you settling in?" he asked politely.
"Pretty well. It's been difficult, of course, but Albus has been amazingly supportive. I probably wouldn't have fared half as well without him."
Harry nodded. "I wish I could have been here earlier, but Dumbledore thought it would be better if you settled in before I came."
Hermione was actually a little relieved that he had waited. She didn't even want to think about what her reaction would have been had she seen him right after she arrived. It was better that she had had some time to prepare herself.
Harry suddenly laughed, a little hysterically. Both she and Ron looked at him a little oddly. "Harry?" Ron asked.
He calmed, eyes suspiciously bright. "I just can't believe this. The three of us back together. I'm trying to process it, but the whole situation doesn't seem real. Hermione, you're sitting here next to me, alive and whole, and I can't help but remembering holding your dead body in my arms."
Hermione gasped. She hadn't known. "Harry," she said brokenly. He shuddered at the sound of her voice, and she leaned forward to wrap her arms around him. He didn't cry. He simply held on to her tightly as she comforted him, returning his actions of earlier. Her eyes met Ron's and she suddenly understood.
As difficult as it was for her to be around them, it was as difficult, if not more so, for them to be around her.
She closed her eyes as she held onto Harry, too drained to cry and too content to let him go. She dimly acknowledged that Ron had sat down behind her and wrapped his arms around both she and Harry. The Trio was together again, and each of them vowed it would be a cold day in Hell before they let themselves be torn asunder again.
A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews!!! Sorry for the late update. Real life is a pain.